THE LITTLE MERMAID: 30th Anniversary 4K Blu-ray (Walt Disney Co. 1989) Walt Disney Home Entertainment

Although little was referenced about it in the trades, by 1985, the Walt Disney Company had come to a bad way. The visionary genius, arguably absent since Walt’s death in 1966, was only partly to blame for the company's current precarious financial situation. In the 1970’s, the Disney empire was buffeted by changes on all sides; paramount among them, the gradual retirement of the original animators (‘9 old men’ as they had come to be known), responsible for setting the studio’s luxurious style throughout its golden period. Arguably, the last great flourish of their talents had been Sleeping Beauty (1959); the introduction of the then ‘new’ Xerox process to copy pencil drawings directly to animation cells, first introduced on One-Hundred-and-One Dalmatians (1961), effectively closing the studio’s time-honored, hand-stenciled ‘ink and paint’ department for good. While the Xerox process undoubtedly streamlined the timeline of transferring original animator’s drawings to acetate, it also homogenized the look of Disney films; a sacrifice in quality. Arguably, this reached its lowest ebb with The Black Cauldron (1985) – a darkly brooding and exceptionally costly flop.

But of even more alarming concern to the powers that be was the sudden audience shift away from family entertainment. This had been the company’s bread and butter for nearly 50 years. To many, it now seemed as though the Disney empire had run its course. In a desperate attempt to ‘contemporize’ the company’s image, the studio invested considerably in a spate of live-action movies with more adult themes: The Watcher in the Woods (1980), a prime example, but a woeful mangling of Florence Engel Randall’s supernatural thriller. Despite the contributing talent of Bette Davis, the picture was viewed as a pathetic attempt to straddle the chasm between ‘main stream’ Hollywood output and the Disney banner.  Even the time-honored Disney magic, typified by a movie like Pete’s Dragon (1977) failed to catch on. The downward spiral continued with Disney’s foray into sci-fi; The Black Hole (1979 – a costly attempt to catch the tail fires of Lucas’ zeitgeist, Star Wars, 1977) and then, Tron (1982 – an even more desperate try at developing a ‘video-game’ themed adventure yarn). These thinly veiled endeavors severely strained the company’s already cash-strapped assets, capped off with another flop in the ‘horror’ genre - the period pic, Something Wicked This Way Comes (1983). In retrospect, these troublesome productions exemplified just how out of touch Disney Inc. had become with mainstream marketability. At the same time, Disney’s theme parks in Anaheim and Florida were not performing up to snuff, with rising maintenance costs cannibalizing park attendance revenues.

Worse for the company’s image and legacy, the new management, fronted by Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg, had decided to effectively cast out the animation department from its cushy studio facilities. This was a major blow, as Walt had built his new Anaheim studios expressly with affording his animators every creative luxury and opportunity to succeed. Now, the remaining talents were effectively ousted from the kingdom in a palace coup, crammed into makeshift facilities located off the back lot. The company’s focus would shift again, as Eisner instituted an aggressive campaign to re-introduce Disney’s eminence on TV, forging an alliance with ABC to bring back the company's presence on the small screen with The Disney Sunday Movie; its programming schedule, relying heavily on the studio’s past achievements - edited for content and time constraints, as well as generating a small spate of originally-produced content made on a much smaller scale to appeal to the toddler sect.  At the same time, Disney spun off its live-action division as Touchstone Pictures – distancing its ‘family’ brand from 'adult-themed' content: popcorn filler – made cheaply – with names about the title it could build into a new breed of burgeoning Disney stars. And there were other television projects to consider too – the unlikely Emmy Award-winning success of The Golden Girls (1985-92), and Empty Nest (1988-1995), among them, pointing the way to rejuvenating the Disney brand as well as padding out its coffers.

For hand-drawn animation, it was the end of an era. Or so it would seem. But then, a miraculous and unlikely renaissance occurred. Under directors, Ron Clements and John Musker, the animators, now housed in trailer facilities off the lot, chose as their next project, to resurrect a project that had once been very close to Walt’s heart, but had languished in its preliminary stages since the mid-1930's; Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid (1989). The original fairy tale was not without its impediments – at least, in keeping with the Disney tradition of the proverbial ‘happy ending’. Andersen’s tender heroine perishes of a broken heart. To assist in their re-telling, Musker and Clements turned to Howard Ashman – a lyricist, who would also serve as the film’s producer. Ashman brought Broadway composer, Alan Menken on board. Together, this foursome devised a superb coup, earmarking The Little Mermaid as the first full-fledged animated ‘musical’ produced at the studio since The Jungle Book (1967). In retrospect, The Little Mermaid’s animation is hardly indicative of the studio’s finest efforts. In fact, in owes much more to the flavor and limited scope of cheaply made Saturday morning cartoons than a full-fledged feature from Disney at the peak of its creative powers. The characters and backgrounds are all rendered in broad, easy-to-replicate lines and colors, the Xerox process having advanced in its ability to reproduce character outlines in various tones, mimicking hand-traced ink and paint. Also, whenever and where ever possible the animation was ‘reused’ – Ariel’s initial embrace with Prince Eric, later recycled with only a minor variation for their penultimate reunion. And yet, The Little Mermaid works – swimmingly, in fact – its solid story, fleshed out with superb vocalizations from Jodi Benson, Pat Carroll, Buddy Hackett and Christopher Daniel Barnes – among others, and, a sumptuous score, filled with hit-making tunes that made audiences want to run out and immediately buy the soundtrack. The Little Mermaid had done the impossible. It had returned to the time-honored principles that Walt would have immensely enjoyed. In short, The Little Mermaid resurrects the sheer joy of seeing a great fable, expertly told. 

The decision to do an animated musical was deliberate – but daring. During the late 1960's and ‘70's, Disney had gradually weaned itself from including songs in their features – in part, mirroring the downturn in the trend for big-budget live-action musicals produced elsewhere in Hollywood. As these had suddenly fallen out of favor, the exodus was also fueled by the fact the song writers of that ‘Tin Pan Alley’ era had dwindled in numbers; rock n’ roll dominating the radio, and seemingly an ill fit to appeal to the toddler trade. While the studio’s latter-day product, had often included a song or two they sincerely hoped would become a pop standard, none actually did. And thus, somewhere along the way, the decision was made to further cut costs and cut out musical numbers. After nearly a decade’s fallow period, perhaps now, Disney’s executive brain trust had seen the error of their ways. Besides, the animated features without music had not fared well at the box office. In their approach to the compositions for The Little Mermaid, Menkin and Ashman remained true to their Broadway roots; writing arias and ballads for the heroine, a bombastic set piece for the villain and two show-stoppers for the lovable sidekick, Sebastian – the Calypso-crooning crab (voiced by Samuel E. Wright). Their logic was sound, the songs infectiously hummable, even upon a first listen.

Certain projects are just kismet, and in retrospect, The Little Mermaid is quite simply one of those that could not fail. At the time, however, it was viewed as something of a last-ditch effort made mostly out of desperation to either secure the future of the studio’s commitments to their hand-drawn animation department or close its doors forever. While the old regime had benefited from Walt’s inspiration, loyalty, and, ever-present guidance, this new order seems to have thrived on the frenetic energy, chaos and realization that the balance of their fate could turn either way. While one can debate the stylistic qualities of the movie itself, no one can deny its execution or staying power – slickly package and with a narrative impetus that moves the story along on effortless joy, excitement and that intangible movie magic. The Little Mermaid finds a home in our hearts because it takes all of the time-honored principles that typified the best the studio has to offer in its heyday, tweaking the formula just enough to bring everything up to date. And, in the absence of Hollywood musicals being produced elsewhere, far from appearing creaky or dated, The Little Mermaid became a breath of fresh air. And Disney Inc. had other reasons to rejoice, as Eisner’s TV programming had been marginally successful at rekindling audiences’ interests in the ole-time Disney ‘family’ brand – the tide turning, ostensibly in 1985, with The Journey of Natty Gann. A beautifully told tale of a young girl’s cross-country journey to find her father, the picture stuck a chord at the box office. By 1988, attendance at the theme parks was on the rise, and, the debut of the ambitiously mounted, Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988) had regenerated interest, not only in the great tradition of animation, but its future possibilities as well.  

Now, The Little Mermaid matured the Disney heroine, Walt's tradition of the proverbial 'damsel in distress' heavily criticized in feminist scholarship since the sixties. So, gone was the demure lass, pining for her Prince Charming to come and rescue her. Our Ariel is a very defiant heroine for which the term ‘girl power’ might have been coined; defying her father, King Triton (Kenneth Mars) and the evil sea witch, Ursula (Pat Carroll). She knows what she wants – to be human and in love with the handsome Prince Eric (Christopher Daniel Barnes) – and she also knows how to pursue her dreams and make them come true.  The story eventually ironed out by Musker and Clements pivots on this empowering female identification; Ariel, the mermaid (voiced by Jodi Benson), whose increasing infatuation with the human world - and one human in particular - leads her into a devil’s pact with Ursula, almost to suffer the eternal consequence. Ariel sells her voice to this sea witch for a chance to become human and pursue her sweetheart on land. Unfortunately, Eric does not recognize Ariel without her winsome pipes. He is further distracted when Ursula transforms herself into an attractive brunette with Ariel’s stolen voice inside her, employing her own hypnotic powers of persuasion. All seems lost until devoted friends, puffer fish, Flounder (Jason Marin), Scuttle, the seagull (Buddy Hackett) and Sebastian (Samuel E. Wright) – a Calypso warbling crab, come to Ariel’s rescue.

Whether kismet or simply from a long overdue absence on the screen of the formulaic Disney animated feature, audiences flocked to see The Little Mermaid, tipping the scales with a domestic gross of $84 million – a qualified hit by any barometer. The movie also utilized CAPS (Computer Animation Production System) for several key sequences – a digital process to have since replaced traditional hand-drawn and cell-painted animation. For Disney Inc., The Little Mermaid marked the beginning of a new golden age, one that would see profits from subsequent feature animation soar, and rejuvenate the new executive regime’s faith in pursuing an aggressive slate of animation projects in tandem with all of their other varying interests. Viewed today, The Little Mermaid remains a charming entertainment, imbued with the very best of Walt’s hallmarks on which the empire had first been founded. Behind the scenes, Howard Ashman was gravely ill. Stricken with the AIDS, Ashman would contribute his musical genius to two more Disney pictures; the Oscar-nominated Best Picture, Beauty and the Beast (1991), and Aladdin (1992) before succumbing to the disease. He was only 40 years old. Ashman’s legacy was immortalized in a dedication in Beauty and the Beast’s credits – “To our friend Howard, who gave a mermaid her voice and a beast his soul, we will be forever grateful.”

The Walt Disney Co. trundles out The Little Mermaid in 4K for its 30^th anniversary. The results, alas, are not exactly ground-breaking. I will simply go on record as stating that there is only so much visual information to be gleaned from an animation cell. This UHD transfer is undeniably ‘new’ and ‘improved’, with an extremely light layer of textured grain re-emerging to the forefront, giving the visuals a very organic film-like appeal.  The most impressive difference is in color saturation – the overall palette becoming deeper, richer and more vibrant as a result.  Contrast remains exquisite (it was, also, on the standard Blu-ray).  However, overall, these improvements are marginal and, without directly comparing the 4K reissue to its previous Diamond Edition Blu-ray release, will likely pass virtually undetected by the casual viewer.  Disney Inc. gives us two ways to enjoy the audio: in 7.1 DTS or 5.1 Dolby Digital. Once again, the original 5.1 theatrical mix has been left off in favor of the home video remastering effort, while the 7.1 is virtually identical to the remastering effort put forth on the old standard Diamond Edition Blu-ray.  But by far the biggest disappointment here is in the extras. After decades of providing the home video consumer with comprehensive editions of their most beloved classics, the Walt Disney Co. continues in its newly instated policy of leaving off a good many of these with each subsequent reissue.

Retained herein is the Sing-Along mode and the audio commentary from Ron Clements, John Musker and Alan Menken. New to 4K Blu is Alan Menken & The Leading Ladies, a very brief retrospective with sound bites from alumni, Jodi Benson (Ariel), Paige O’Hara (Belle), Judy Kuhn (Pocahontas), Lillias White (Calliope), Donna Murphy (Mother Gothel), and archival recollections from Menken about their collaborations. Also new, is “What I Want From You Is... Your Voice”, a scant 6-minutes of behind-the-scenes recording sessions.  Stories from Walt’s Office: Gadgets & Gizmos is another 6-minute junket with Disney Archives director, Rebecca Cline and archivist, Edward Ovalle.  Treasures Untold – yet another 6-minutes (what is it with Disney and the number six?!?!) with Disney Channel alumni, Dakota Lotus and Ruby Rose Turner and ‘Part of Your World’ – an interminable music video by DCappella. We also get 2-minutes discussing Harold the Merman, a deleted character, plus, Under the Scene: The Art of Live Action Reference, a 13-minute featurette about the importance of live-action reference in animation. Howard’s Lecture is a 17-minute tribute to the late Howard Ashman. Rather idiotically, Disney continues to offer its ‘classic’ extra features only via redemption of the digital copy access code. Thanks, but I want everything accessible on disc!

Absent this time out: the Diamond Edition’s 3D version of the film, Crab-E-Oke intermission, Carly Rae Jepsen’s interpretation of Part of Your World, @Disneyanimation, Part of Her World: Jodi Benson’s Voyage to New Fantasyland; 7 deleted scenes, and, most egregious of all - Treasures Untold: The Making of The Little Mermaid – that comprehensive 46-minute documentary that covered everything about the production, succinctly and with class. You also will not find The Storm Warming: The Little Mermaid Special Effects Unit, The Little Mermaid: The Story Behind the Story, The Little Match Girl short; a 3-minute Early Presentation Reel, or the movie’s original theatrical trailer. And what of John & Ron Make Caricatures of Each Other, The Animators Comment on Their Characters, “The Little Mermaid Handshake” segment; the Disney song book, Disneypedia: Life Under the Sea, Behind the Ride That Almost Was, and, Under the Sea Adventure: A Virtual Ride Inspired by Disney Imagineers? Well, none of it is available this time around. Very disappointing that the Mouse House continues to neglect so many of its vintage special features that were as treasured by home video enthusiasts and collectors alike, almost as much as the movies they celebrate. If you are considering picking up the 4K release of The Little Mermaid, you will find the image quality marginally improved. But I would not part with your Diamond Edition Blu-ray just yet. Bottom line: pass, if you already own on standard Blu-ray – and feel confident you have not missed out on much!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

2